


Embers

by QueenForADay



Series: Mercenary [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, a world in where everything is lovely and peaceful and nothing is hurtful to bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 19:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6766927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenForADay/pseuds/QueenForADay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky and the Reader's adopted daughter call them "Papa" and "Mama" for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Embers

“She’s a cute kid,” Steve says to you one day.

Bucky’s gone out to get groceries, and you were left to watch Geneve. You look over your shoulder to Steve, who nods to the five year old on the floor. She had Steve’s team to dote over her – buying her clothes and toys, even though you and Bucky had made it clear that you could handle raising her yourselves.

She’s looking at the TV, watching some animated kid’s show.

Steve shifts his weight on to his other foot. “You’ve told her, haven’t you.”

It wasn’t a question.

But you were slightly thankful that she was young. The news of her parents’ death was hard, but it was washed quickly away. Grief was something that just doesn’t stick with children that young.

What did surprise you about her was her ability to pick up English. You and Bucky could speak German. You were both taught it as part of your training, along with other languages like Russian, Spanish and French. You taught her small words and phrases to make communication with the rest of Steve’s team better.

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you rasp out. There was still an investigation going on in Berlin – one you and Bucky decided to stay out of. Steve’s been back and forth from Berlin, keeping you updated even though you wanted nothing to do with it. Ever since learning that Geneve has no parents, and she was your responsibility now, something just turned you off of the case entirely.

You go back to washing the dishes. Steve comes over most days to check on the little girl in your living room. She silently adores him, asking for him whenever he’s not around.

That’s when she first says it to you.

“Can Mr Rogers stay for a bit longer, Mama?”

You nearly drop the plate you’re washing back into the sink.

The little girl is so small compared to Steve. She’s little for her age, and he towers over her. She’s holding her stuffed bear in one of her hands – the one she’s kept clutched to her since you rescued her.

“Um,” you look to Steve, who looks just as shocked as you do. “Y-Yeah, of course he can _liebling_.”

Geneve grabs Steve’s hand as soon as you gave your permission, and drags him to the living room.

 

You tell Bucky.

“What exactly did she say?” he mumbles against your temple. You’re both lying in bed, Geneve tucked in for the night and long asleep. Bucky’s metal fingers comb through your hair as you rest against his shoulder.

“Mama,” you replies, “she called me Mama.”

When you look up at him, he’s pulling a face. “That’s hardly the worst thing she could say.”

You trace your fingers over Bucky’s bare chest – over the scars that litter his skin, reminding you of how often he could have been taken from you.

“Yeah, but,” you sigh, “it doesn’t feel right. I mean…”

Bucky looks at you levelly for a moment. “You think she should still be remembering her parents.”

You nod.

Bucky sighs through his nose. “That’s how grief works in kids. It doesn’t hang around for them. I don’t know what to tell you, but this was going to happen eventually.”

It’s true. When you made the decision with the others to keep Geneve in your care, you knew exactly what it was you were signing up for.

You lay your head back down on Bucky’s shoulder.

 

It happens again almost a week later.

You’re walking through the park with Geneve. Her English still needs work. Walking through the park meant that you could point out more things like birds, people, and trees for her to learn and translate.

 She walks beside you, her hands in yours.

You’re lost in your own thoughts when you suddenly feel your hand be pulled.

“Papa!” Geneve squeals before racing forward. You look up to see Bucky standing a few feet away. He crouches down and hoists her into his arms. She’s laughing brightly, and you smile. It’s something that she does often. Like the sun shines from that smile she wears.

When Bucky walks up to you, you raise your eyebrow at him.

He doesn’t say anything but bounces Geneve on his hip. She giggled into his neck. She suddenly pulls away and waves her hand to a nearby ice-cream stand. “Papa?” she turns to him.

There it is again. It lingers slightly, like being called Mama did to you. But Bucky only smiles brightly at the little girl and looks to you. “What do you think?” he asks.

You smile softly. “ _Natürlich kannst du, Schatz_.”

Bucky sets her down on the ground. She takes his hand – his metal one – and drags him forward. How she managed to pull two grown men about, you’ll never understand, but it brings out a genuine smile from you.

 

Geneve couldn’t sleep one night.

You didn’t hear her calling for you, but you did wake up to the bed shifting and Bucky laying back down on the mattress. He didn’t see you open your eyes to look up at him, or the sot smile you had when you noticed Geneve cuddled into his chest.

“It’s alright _Schatz_ ,” he mumbled, “Daddy has nightmares too.”

She was crying, you noticed. Soft hiccups racked through her tiny frame. Bucky was rubbing her back and hushing her and mumbling endearments.

When Geneve stopped crying, Bucky brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head.

“That’s alright,” he says slowly. His fingers still comb through her honey coloured hair. You can see that her cheeks are still damp with tears, but her eyes are shut. “Sometimes I don’t want to talk about them either.”

She looks up at him. “Really?”

He nods. “But do you know what I do?”

She shrugs her shoulder.

“I remember all of the good things I’ve seen,” he explains, “like how the park looks in summer or the smell of eggs and bacon in the morning.”

She smiles slightly at the last one. He keeps bouncing her slightly, trying to wring out the last of the hiccuped-sobs from her. You stay silent, watching the scene in front of you.

“S-So,” she sniffs, “I need to remember nice things?”

He nods slowly.

“Can I stay here with you and Mama?” she mumbles. “I don’t want to go sleep by myself.”

He makes room in between the two of you, healing her nestle underneath the covers between your bodies. He kisses her forehead. “G’night _Mausi_.”

**Author's Note:**

> All prompts to this verse are welcomed!
> 
> Drop by to my tumblr (yourqueenforayear.tumblr.com) or leave a suggestion in the comments!


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